


Siren

by ThorinBilbo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crowley Romance, F/M, Protective Crowley, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24296599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThorinBilbo/pseuds/ThorinBilbo
Summary: Bertie Winchester was always overlooked. Sam and Dean were meant to be born. Their destinies were made before they knew it. As for her, she was only born by chance. John and Mary considered it their miracle. Every monster or demon they have crossed considered her a mistake, a smudge on the ledger that was signed by God long ago. For a while, she tended to believe them. But now she's hearing a siren calling to her that only she can hear. She's left with so many questions, along with two unlikely allies joining her and her brothers on this journey for the truth.
Relationships: Crowley (Supernatural)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Consulting the Non-Innocent

She would never forgive her parents for her name. Who the hell names their child _Roberta_? It just sounds like someone's grandmother. What was worse was hearing her teachers call it out during attendance. The snickers from her classmates was enough to make her turn completely red. She was sure if she didn't have Sam there to defend her, school would've been far more of a hell. He wouldn't let anyone talk down to his twin, especially some petty bullies with nothing better to do. It wasn't as though there were any lasting consequences for starting rivalries with everyone. They were always gone within a month or two. 

Who knew the lasting embarrassment would come back to haunt her? Literally? She'd be rich if she had a dollar for every time her name was brought out as an insult from a demon or some other monster they had to interrogate or fight. Her brothers would stifle their laughter while she'd erupt in long babbles that couldn't be understood because she was so furious. They both knew better than to call her by her full name. Anyone that truly knew Roberta never addressed her as such.

She was Bertie to her brothers, Robbie to some friends, and she was even Berta to Castiel at one point until he just called her Bertie, too. 

"Roberta!" Crowley greeted, his voice slightly gurgled from the chain wrapped tightly around his throat. Her gaze darkened. So much for nicknames. 

"Not the time, Crowley," Dean snapped, not bothering to laugh as he stepped around his sister to get to him.

"And here I thought we had plenty of time," Crowley retorted. "Here I am clasped to a very uncomfortable chair with everything but my nether regions bound. You realize other methods could've happily been accessed if you wanted to speak with me. This just seems rather...redundant." He pulled at the chains around his wrists for emphasis. 

"You have your ways of avoiding us," Sam spoke up for the first time, his mouth pulled up into a sarcastic smile. "Now...we need to ask you a few things and maybe we'll feel generous enough to loosen your chains."

"Oh, bully," he replied sarcastically. 

"We need to know who the hell is messing with Bertie." Dean didn't beat around the bush. That made sense. Being the big brother often made him the protective mother hen he tried his best to avoid. Sam and Roberta were his entire world, so anything that concerned them concerned him. "She hasn't slept for...how long has it been since you've had a full night's sleep?"

"Can't remember," Roberta mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. "Um...maybe three weeks now? I sleep when I can, but...it doesn't come around periodically. It makes me hear it when it wants me to."

"I honestly haven't a clue what any of you are talking about," Crowley said honestly, his eyes trailing from her to Dean. Sam placed a comforting hand on his twin's shoulder, squeezing it gingerly. "It may come as a shock to you, but the Winchesters aren't always the number one thing on our minds. When left to our own devices, there are other matters in need of being taken care of. I can assure you Roberta Winchester is not one of them as of late."

"See, that's funny because...I don't believe you," Dean said. He turned away and approached a nearby table that carried the typical weapons they used for interrogation methods on monsters. He grabbed for the bottle with translucent liquid inside. It wasn't that hard to guess what was inside and the damage it could do for Crowley. He noticeably flinched, but he didn't shy away from him. He wasn't about to be talked down like some newborn. Holy water burned like a bitch, but it was nothing new. 

"Perhaps if you three were to enlighten me on what's going on I can be of more help. Otherwise we're going to fall into an endless loop of torture and my lovable quips for my favorite siblings," Crowley grunted. 

"I've been hearing..." Roberta trailed off. She didn't know how to explain it without sounding crazy. When she had let her brothers in on what was going on with her, they didn't even believe her at first. They had tried to calm her by insisting it was nightmares, but when the siren began appearing when she was awake, it became quite clear that wasn't the case. Two weeks of research and badgering Castiel for answers left them with the last resort of calling Crowley. "I dunno...I guess...kind of like a ringing? It started when I was sleeping. Figured it was just the traffic outside the motel room. But it wouldn't stop. Sometimes it's louder in one location and it's quieter in another. It comes and goes."

"Okay, what you've just described to me is the human equivalent of a goddamn earrache," Crowley scoffed. 

"Shut up!" Dean snapped, before turning to Roberta, "Keep going." 

"I think someone's calling me...I figured it was you or one of your lackeys," Roberta admitted, approaching Crowley slowly. Sam moved to stop her, but Dean put a hand up. He was keeping a close eye on his sister. Clearly she needed to get this off her chest. "I need to know...it's literally killing me. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't think. I don't know if I'm supposed to be scared or not."

Crowley studied her now that she was in his vicinity. 

"Explain from the beginning," he insists.

* * *

_The motel was dingy...disgusting, but she wasn't going to complain. Sam and Dean shared a room together just so she could have her privacy. That and they weren't willing to listen to the hundredth episode of whatever female empowerment television show she was on. Her laptop was stock full of every season to date(although Dean did question from time to time which boy the protagonist would choose). She had finished up in the shower, drying her hair with a towel as she approached her bed with her pajamas splayed out for her to change into._

_They would question the witnesses the next morning. It wasn't anything truly out of the ordinary. Sam was assuming they were dealing with another werewolf due to the missing hearts in the three victims. The only issue was that each victim were a part of the same family. They would hopefully be out of this town by the next night once the wolf was successfully captured and dealt with._

_Roberta pulled on her nightshirt and slipped underneath the thin covers, shivering helplessly. These blankets were like sandpaper. Grumbling incoherently, she pulled on the chain to her lamp, throwing her into complete darkness. She didn't realize how tired she was until now. She texted her brothers' emergency phones to let them know she was going to sleep and to keep their voices down in the next room. Yawning, she turned over and closed her eyes._

_Her dreams always consisted of the same thing. Embarrassingly enough, his calloused hands made her feel safe as he pulled her into his embrace, peppering her throat with butterfly kisses until he got to her lips and planted his own onto them. He smelled like aftershave and whiskey, an odd combination. Her heart fluttered in delight just before she pushed him away in shock._

_**BRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNGGGG!**_

_For a moment, Roberta worried she was waking late to her alarm and would miss getting ready for school. It took her a few moments to realize that she no longer went to school and she knew for a fact she didn't set an alarm to wake up to. Her eyes flew open, her body automatically sitting up. The ringing wasn't stopping. In fact, it was louder than it was in slumber. She dug her index finger into her ear and twisted it around before trying to see if that worked. No, it was still ringing._

_Confused and on edge now, Roberta slipped out of bed and quickly rushed to her things which she had dumped unceremoniously on the table the motel complex provided in each room. She felt her hand clasp around her blade and pulled it out, holding it close. The ringing was almost deafening now. She held her hands over her ears, crying out in pain._

_As suddenly as it had came, it stopped._

_Roberta looked around, practically delirious. There was no lasting echo nor was there a pause in the traffic outside or in the activity outside her room. Nobody was concerning themselves with what they just heard. But her brothers had to be. She was wondering why they haven't come to check on her to see if she heard it, too. Keeping her blade on standby, she unlocked her door and rushed to the one right beside it, twisting at the doorknob. Locked. Of course. She knocked loudly on the red paint, trying to wake them up._

_She heard a stir and the sound of a bed creaking. She waited impatiently, dancing on the balls of her feet as she looked around in suspicion. Nobody was outside their doors at the moment, other than two men on the other side of the parking lot, cigarettes in hand. She turned when she heard the door unlock and saw Sam's sleepy face peek through the crack._

_"B-Bertie?" he grunted, "What are you doing?"_

_"Don't tell me you two seriously slept through that."_

_"Slept through what?"_

_Roberta pushed on the door, practically shoving her twin aside to look around. The room was dark. Dean was completely slumped over his bed, hanging half on/half off. He was snoring loudly, his normally gelled hair completely messy. She couldn't believe it. How could they sleep through something like that? She thought she was going to have a heart attack from how loud the ringing was._

_"Did you have a nightmare?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes as he made his way back to his bed. He sat on the end of it, staring up confusedly at his twin. "If you want to sleep in here, take a crack at Dean's bed because it's too hot-"_

_"You seriously didn't hear that?" Roberta asked incredulously._

_"Hear what?" Sam asked, irritated now. He clearly just wanted to go back to sleep._

_"Th-The ringing! It sounded like the motel was going on lockdown or something. How did you not hear it?"_

_"Mm-Sammy! Tell the cleaning lady to come back later," Dean grunted, turning over. He was still fast asleep, the asshat._

_"It's Bertie, Dean," Sam replied, more awake. "Robert-"_

_"Don't!"_

_"Bertie...you were probably just dreaming. Just go back to bed. We have to go see the Andersons in the morning."_

_"But I'm telling you there was something-"_

_"Do you wanna sleep in here?" Sam asked, finally giving up on her and crawling back under his covers. His feet poked out on the very end due to his height. "Might make you...feel better." He was getting sleepy again. God damn it._

_"Sam, you're not listening to me."_

_"What?"_

_"I said you're not-"_

_He was snoring again. Son of a bitch. Roberta sighed, getting back to her feet and tapping the knife tentatively against her thigh. Perhaps she was imagining it. But it felt so real. She looked at her sleeping brothers, both of which were completely unaware of what she heard. Sighing irritably, she marched out of their door and back to her own room. She didn't sleep for the rest of the night, fearful the ringing would rip her so harshly from it again._

* * *

"That was the first instance," Roberta said. 

"Was I really that out of it?" Sam asked. 

"Do I really talk in my sleep?" Dean questioned.

Roberta rolled her eyes and gave them both a look of contempt. They shut up immediately. She turned back to Crowley. She looked so tired. The bags under her eyes were something to gawk at, and she looked paler than usual. Her normally thick brown hair hung limp past her ears. If anyone was being perfectly honest, she looked like a dead girl walking. Crowley's expression was still confused. The smell of his aftershave and whiskey breath was almost intoxicating that it began to lull her to sleep. Thankfully, she quickly shook her head to snap out of it.

"Now tell me of the most recent instance." 

* * *

_"Cas...this is getting out of hand. Look at her." Dean said, his voice full of worry. Roberta was leaning on Sam, half asleep. Her hair was pulled up hastily in an attempt of a bun, but Sam was never good at keeping his own hair well groomed. Castiel stepped around his friend to approach Roberta, extending a hand and pulling her head up so he could get a better look at her. "She isn't sleeping. She can barely walk anymore. We've been having to turn down hunts to take care of her."_

_"I see...and it's the same story each time?"_

_"Every few hours each day she'll suddenly freak out because she hears a loud ringing or whatever. We can't ever hear anything. It's just her."_

_"Perhaps it is some sort of human disorder? It could be something to do with her own body."_

_"Tried a doctor. Said there was nothing wrong with her physically. Only that she needs to get some sleep or she can get sick."_

_"Odd," Castiel circled Roberta and Sam, studying her closely. "I can't think of any reason why she can be hearing something like that."_

_"She says she feels like someone's calling her," Sam said, flinching as Roberta's legs suddenly gave out from under her. Thankfully he had caught her from underneath her arms, pulling her up. "Dean, help!"_

_Dean quickly approached them, gathering his sister in his arms and placing her down into the armchair available, helping her curl up as she finally went down for some much needed sleep. He hoped whatever she was hearing would finally leave her the hell alone so she could get some rest. He turned back to Cas, looking even more desperate than before._

_"You seriously don't know what the hell this can be?" he asked weakly._

_Casitel looked troubled. He wanted to help his friend, truly. But he's never heard of anything like this. At least, not in his lifetime. He walked over to Roberta on the armchair, gazing down at her with his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. Finally, he looked back up to the brothers with a solution. Or, what he hoped could be one. "I need to see things from her perspective."_

_"Pardon?" Dean said._

_"What do you mean?" Sam asked._

_"If I can get into her mind at a previous point in time, I can experience myself what she is feeling. I'll be as quick as I can. The thing is...she has to remain asleep for this to work," Castiel stated._

_"And if she wakes up while you're doing this?"_

_"That memory I am seeking out can be lost forever. Not that she'd mind, but the damage it can leave her with can be terrible if she accidentally throws me into a different memory. Try to keep her asleep for as long as you can," Castiel instructed._

_Dean nodded. Sam, however, looked conflicted._

_"Wait, Dean..did you not hear what he just said? If Bertie wakes up and accidentally shakes him to another memory she has...it can end badly for her," Sam scoffed. "What if she loses the memory of us or something else?"_

_"Sam...there is something wrong with her. If we're going to figure it out, we have to take the necessary risks," Dean said, turning back to Castiel. "Get it over with, Cas, and hurry." The angel nodded, taking his right hand and slowly placing it over Roberta's sweaty forehead. He began to glow a bright white, momentarily blinding Sam and Dean until he suddenly disappeared._

_For the next hour and a half, Sam and Dean waited patiently by their sister's side. Dean looked sick to his stomach, watching her. Sam decided to take the time by thumbing through many books that could give them answers that Castiel couldn't provide at the moment. They both looked up when they heard Roberta stir._

_"Oh, crap," Dean hissed, getting to his feet. Not knowing what to do, he began to pat at his sister's head. "Shh...stay asleep, Bertie, stay asleep..."_

_"Dude, stop hitting her in the head," Sam whispered, pulling Dean away. "Do it more gently." He pet her hair instead, before grimacing. "It's all oily. When did she last wash her hair?"_

_"Do I look like I pay attention to Bertie's personal hygiene?" Dean asked._

_Roberta grunted, beginning to shift around. She was waking up._

_"God damn it, Cas, hurry it up," Dean pleaded. His prayers were answered. A moment later, Castiel appeared back where he had been standing before he disappeared. To Dean and Sam's dismay, he didn't look like he saw anything that led to a good answer. Roberta opened her eyes, looking around in confusion._

_"Why are you guys crowding me?" she groaned. "Go away."_

_"You got it. And, also, take a bath," Dean said, relieved. He pulled Castiel off to the side so they could discuss Roberta's case quietly. "Well? What did you see?"_

_"Your sister really enjoys what they call 'chick flicks'," Castiel said, glancing over at Roberta._

_"Stay on task, Cas."_

_"Right, well...there is definitely a siren she is hearing. It's almost deafening depending on where she is. I can't detect its whereabouts, however, nor can I tell exactly what or who it is." he said. "It's not anything I've ever heard before."_

_"So...you can't tell us how to stop it," Sam deflated._

_"For now, no I cannot. But I can look for answers elsewhere and be back with anything I find. That could take some serious time, however."_

_"Do whatever you can, Cas," Sam begged, "She's not getting any better. We're running out of options."_

_"Not yet we're not," Dean declared, his hands on his hips. He appeared to be dreading something. Sam couldn't tell what._

_"What is it?"_

_"Well, let's think. Who would want to screw with a Winchester's head for weeks on end to the point she's getting sick?"_

_Sam already knew. "Crowley."_

_Before they could dwell on it more, Roberta suddenly elicited a painful cry. She clapped her hands over her ears, turning over in the armchair._

_"She must be hearing it again," Castiel stated the obvious. "I will try to see what I can find. Until then...try to keep her as safe as possible." With a flap of his wings, he was gone. Dean and Sam ran over to Roberta in an attempt to console her. But she was yelling out in pain from her sore ears as the ringing got even louder and louder._

_"Get everything ready, Sammy," Dean grunted as he held onto his sister. "We're about to have company."_

* * *

"And that's why we brought you here. Why I look like this," Roberta gestured to herself. "We just need to know if you know what this is. I want it to stop."

"I see," Crowley said, taking that entire story in. Sam and Dean watched him carefully. Since the story had concluded, Dean finally gave in and pulled Roberta away from the King of Hell. "I hope this brings you no more ill will than you're already feeling, but I have not done this, nor have I ordered any of my demons to do so as well. I assure you we have not been checking in on the Winchesters of late. Whatever this is...it's something else."

Roberta groaned in misery, throwing her face into her hands. 

"Well...until Cas comes back with news-"

"We don't know when that'll even be," Dean huffed, hugging Roberta close. "We need to figure this out for ourselves." 

"How the hell do we do that? We've read everything we can. We don't even know where to look for help," Sam said. 

"Well, I find that a little offensive, Moose," Crowley scoffed. They had clearly forgotten that they had brought him there. "You seem to forget who you have summoned and so rudely tied down."

"Why would we consult someone who wants nothing more than to see us dead?" Sam asked, his face deadpan.

"Little dove is clearly in distress," Crowley said, nodding to his twin. "And, if we're being completely honest...I'm a little bored. Why not take part in this interesting journey?"

"No...no way," Dean snapped. 

"I didn't know you had the option to refuse help," Crowley chortled. "But you won't see me begging to help the Winchesters. Now...if you'll just unchain me, I can get out of your hair and let you watch your poor sister die of malnutrition."

"Wait," Sam said. 

"Sam," Dean stated loudly, looking up at Sam with sudden anger. "Don't even think about it."

"Dean, what choice do we have? Look at her!" Sam said, gesturing to Roberta who had finally looked up. She was staring at Crowley suspiciously. Why the hell would he want to help her? "Cas could be gone for months. We need all the help we can get. She's gonna get worse before she gets better if we don't give her what she needs."

"And Crowley is what she needs?"

"No, but I like our luck better with someone who's been around forever than someone who hasn't."

Dean did not want to agree with him. In fact, at the moment all he wanted to do was drive the demon blade repeatedly into Crowley's chest and watch him slump over. But looking down at Roberta conflicted this instinct. She was exhausted. None of them knew how much more she could take. Plus, wouldn't they want Crowley working with them than against them? But why did he want to work with them in the first place?

Dean whipped around toward Crowley. "What's your angle?"

"There has to be an angle?"

"With you, yes. Always." 

"Well, Squirrel...I suppose it stems from boredom...curiosity...and perhaps one percent of concern. I'm a gentleman at heart, believe it or not," Crowley said simply. 

"What do you even get out of this?"

"If something is disturbing a Winchester this greatly, I'd like to know what it is. Clearly it's something powerful, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here now after all the assumptions directed at me and my own," Crowley explained. "If I can eradicate anything that could be a threat to me, I'd be happy to do so."

"We don't even know if it's something bad, though," Roberta piped in suddenly. 

"How could you say that? Look at yourself," Sam scoffed incredulously. 

"Just because it's making me tired doesn't mean it's automatically bad. We have no idea what it is. I just want it to stop," Roberta pleaded. 

"Then let's get started. I smell a roadtrip coming on," Crowley grinned. 

Dean and Sam still looked skeptical, but they didn't get to say much more since Roberta suddenly whimpered and covered her ears. Crowley quickly frowned, watching her from his perch. Roberta's low whimpers turned into a loud, painful cry. Dean and Sam tried their hardest to be there for her, but it was for naught. Crowley seemed to pull at his restraints, almost as if he wanted to approach her, too, in order to console her.

Roberta felt like her head was going to explode. What the hell was this thing? 

How the hell were they going to stop it?


	2. Road Trip

Dean slammed the trunk with a loud grunt. He didn't look happy. In fact, he looked absolutely furious. The day was young outside the bunker. The sky was a bright, vibrant blue. Relatively few clouds had gathered. Unfortunately, his mood couldn't match. Sam and Roberta were clutching three bags to their chests. After Roberta had collapsed the day before just after Crowley declared his sudden interest in helping them, Sam managed to convince them they had fewer options than anything else. If Crowley was willing to work with them rather than against them, shouldn't they give him a practice trial? 

Speaking of Crowley, the son of a bitch was following his siblings with a shit eating grin on him. He carried nothing more than a wallet in his hand. Feeling his gaze on him, Crowley playfully swung the wallet in his face. "Funny what a small spell can earn you. Everything I need is in here. Not as much...clutter." He eyed Sam and Roberta as they shoved the bags into the backseat, bunching them up so he and Roberta could sit comfortably. 

"Are we ready to go?" Sam asked, closing the door. 

"I have no clue where the hell we're even going," Dean snapped. He turned to Crowley. "Where is this...psychic again you're so keen on seeing?"

"Imogen Stein. Real easy on the eyes. And she's the real deal. She's got about..." Crowley trailed off in order to stare down at his wrist as if there were a watch there. "Four more years before she has to clock out." Dean looked disgusted. "She's already seen how she dies. She plans on visiting her favorite bars on the day to make herself...numb. Anyway, I figure if we want to find out where to go to help...Roberta, she's the perfect candidate." 

"It's Bertie, asshole," Roberta bit, hands on her hips. "How far away is Breckenridge, Colorado, anyway?"

"About seven hours, give or take," Crowley shrugged. "It's a lovely ski resort."

"It's also a place we can play with the green legally," Dean grinned, rubbing his hands together. 

All three stared at him. 

"It's a bright side here, people," Dean said, throwing his arms out dramatically. 

"Alright," Sam sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Is everyone ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's hit it," Roberta said, moving to her side of the car and opening the door to crawl inside. Crowley followed her, grimacing at the inside of Baby. "You get used to the boy smell after a while." Boy smell was an understatement. Somehow Dean always managed to spray on too much body spray, whereas Sam insisted on wearing anything cinnamon related. And that scent tended to stagnate. 

"It's not the smell, so much as it is the state of such a vile...mode of transportation, so to speak." he admitted, before he looked up and noticed the glowering figure of Dean Winchester as he paused by the driver's side. "And I say as such with the utmost sincerity."

"Just get in the damn car," Dean huffed. 

"Remind me again why I can't just take you there myself? I understand you allow Castiel the honor," Crowley said, finally crawling inside and pressing up against a blushing Roberta. "It's almost as if you don't trust me."

"One, we don't trust you. And two, I'm not leaving Baby for however long this is going to take." Dean stated, switching Baby on with a satisfied sigh. Sam slipped in beside him, buckling himself up before turning around to face his twin. She gave him an assuring smile. He had offered in the bunker to sit in the back with Crowley, but she had weirdly insisted she was fine next to the King of Hell. Sam didn't question her insistence on it, but she could feel the suspicious gazes as they had taken their luggage out of their home. 

"Alright, kids, let's get going," Dean said, turning the knob so music blasted through the speakers. With ease he pulled out and made for the road to start their seven hour journey. Roberta and Crowley tried their best to keep as much distance as possible, but that proved to be difficult with how Sam and her pushed up the bags on the opposite side. This was going to be a _long_ ride. 

"Bertie, why don't you try to get some sleep while you have the chance? You need it," Dean barked firmly. 

Roberta slowly nodded. She understood she'd probably wake up in the middle of it to the annoying ringing, but any sleep was better than none. Fluffing up the bag to her left, she leaned her head on it and gently closed her eyes. With her lack of slumber as of late, she was out like a light, leaving the boys to sit in awkward silence as Led Zeppelin gave a guitar riff.

"I do say, boys, I'm surprised you agreed to the company," Crowley stated, taking advantage of Roberta's conscious absence. 

"I, more or less, compromised for Bertie."

"Of course. Anything for the little dove and Moose, yes?" 

"Why did Imogen sell her soul to be a psychic?" Sam asked, trying to diffuse the rising tension. 

"Well, Moose, it would seem it was a running gene in the family that skipped her. The Stein family were legitimate psychics, though not as...preferable to the big leagues as prophets normally are. When Imogen failed to see whatever her family could with ease, she sought the aid of my men. She'd rather live ten years with a curse just so she wouldn't disappoint Mommy and Daddy. Not to mention it's enabled a rather nice cash flow into her bank account. She has two kids now, as I understand. She's leaving everything to them when the day comes."

Dean glared into the rearview mirror. "She has _kids_?"

"Oh, don't try to patronize me, Squirrel. She made that choice herself. I made no push or shove. She doomed her kids to an eternity without her. As I understand, they weren't naturally born with the family gene either. Odds are they won't see it coming." 

"Please, Crowley, show a little less concern," Dean said sarcastically. tightening his hold on the steering wheel. "I wanna get in and out of there, Sammy. Have her tell us where to go so we can take out whatever's bothering Bertie and we'll get rid of Crowley in the process. I want this to be over and done with as soon as possible."

"Yes, Moose, we do need to be rid of this Crowley fellow if we can guarantee any amount of happiness for darling little Roberta," Crowley teased, leaning forward with his arm resting on the front seat. "Really, though, am I so terrible to be around?"

"Yes," Sam and Dean said in unison. Crowley's lips pursed and he sat back in his seat. 

The next hour they rode on in silence, the radio switching between all of Dean's favorite bands, occasionally switching to a station that Sam enjoyed just to be nice. Roberta was snoring loudly, drool pooling over the bags, but nobody bothered her. Even Crowley tried his best to allow her to rest. She seemed so exhausted. The boys' heads were cluttered with worried thoughts. Roberta was on the top of their lists of concern, excluding Crowley. If Imogen couldn't help them out, they would have to wait for Crowley to point them in the next direction. Sam understood that Dean was not happy about that. He already loathed being around the demon to begin with, but the fact he had to take orders from him, all with his sister's sanity on the line made it impossible for him to not be stressed out. He knew this was his idea all along, but he had assumed it would be a two hour ordeal of torturing him for answers and curing Roberta from whatever disease this is. 

Sam, on the other hand, was desperate to help his twin. He hated seeing her like this. Roberta Winchester was a headstrong hunter with a liking for stupid teenage girl shows and sad romance movies. Lately, however, she either cried from the pain or slept for a few hours at a time. She just wasn't herself, and he hated that. Consulting Crowley wasn't exactly his favorite idea, but it was better than being lead blind while waiting for immeasurable days, weeks, or months for Castiel to return with answers. Subtly, he looked over his shoulder toward his sister. Her mouth was open with her tongue hanging out of the corner due to the gravity of how she was laying. He was definitely sure it was his bag she was drooling on, but he didn't mind. Whatever it took, him and Dean were going to find the cure for her. 

"I'm gonna need a restroom break," Sam announced as they passed through a rural town on the very edge of Kansas. 

"Me, too. And a little snack. Pie?"

"I'll pass. The bathroom by itself is fine," Sam snorted. Dean nodded and took the next exit, following the necessary signs for a gas station. Crowley was still silent, staring absentmindedly out of the window with his hands neatly in his lap. Dean kept a careful eye on him the entire journey thus far, but he would have to abandon Baby for the moment to get his restroom break as well as a much needed pie slice. 

Soon enough, he found what he was looking for and pulled into the relatively empty parking lot. It was early evening, so the lights were on outside, painting the parking lot in an orange hue. The large sign that drew customers in was spinning 360 degrees as slowly as possible. Dean pulled into the spot closest to the door and unbuckled himself turning toward Crowley. 

"Do we need to get the cuffs to make sure you don't jump ship?"

"Please, Squirrel, if I wanted to leave, I'd have done so when you released me from the dreadful chair. I'll be quite content here."

"What about Bertie?" Sam asked. She was still sleeping.

Dean bit his lip. He truly didn't want to wake her up just to go inside and not be stuck with Crowley by herself, but at the same time he didn't trust Crowley. Seeing the look on his face, the King of Hell let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes, saying, "I won't harm a hair on her head. Scout's honor."

Dean hesitated, then he pointed a threatening finger in his direction. "If anything happens, I will rip you to pieces and burn them."

"Kinky," Crowley smirked. 

Giving one last look to Roberta, he finally exited the car and followed Sam inside. 

The Impala was now completely silent, save for Roberta's long, drawn out snores. Crowley looked over at her, grimacing in slight disgust at the drool. Then she stirred and whipped open her impossibly brown eyes. She quickly sat up, the drool stain on the left side of her face. 

"Are we here?"

"Not just yet. Moose and Squirrel needed to relieve themselves and Squirrel wanted...pie, if I remember correctly," Crowley explained. "Do you want to go inside as well?"

Roberta didn't answer right away. Instead, she yawned loudly and stretched, nearly striking Crowley in the fact if he hadn't jerked away in time. Once she heard and felt the satisfying pop, she scratched her back and blinked several times at the translucent windows that looked into the gas station. Dean was already out of the bathroom, looking around the aisles for something specific. 

"No, I just want to get back on the road," she finally answered him. "How long was I out?"

"About...three hours, give or take. We probably have another four and a half before we see Breckenridge."

"Fantastic," Roberta mumbled, throwing her head back. 

"How are...you feeling?"

"Tired, still, but that nap helped a lot."

"You sounded like you were in a lot of pain yesterday."

Roberta opened in eye, searching his face to see if he found humor in her misery. To her surprise, he seemed slightly concerned. Or as concerned as Crowley could get. She sat up straighter, hearing another pop in her spine. "The ringing gets really bad, like I said. I'm surprised I can still hear at all. Sometimes I just think it's all in my head and I'm going nuts."

"To be fair, you'd have all the right reasons to be nuts."

She laughed. "I'd look hot in a straight jacket." 

Their small conversation was interrupted by her brothers returning with a buttload of snacks. Pie wasn't the only thing on Dean's mind apparently. They sat down and immediately began digging into their goodies. 

"You're awake," Sam said in surprise, smiling up at Roberta. "I got you your favorite." He handed a colorful bag to her. 

"Awe, yes!" Roberta exclaimed, immediately tearing it open and popping several gummies into her mouth. 

"What is that?"

"Life Savers," Roberta said through a mouthful. "You want some?"

"I'll pass."

"Alright, kids, let's hit the road," Dean said after taking a bite from a stale looking burrito. He turned the car back on and carefully peeled out of the parking lot before turning back onto the road and, soon, the freeway. Roberta had already finished her candy by that time. Sam was sipping from a styrofoam cup before he gave the rest to her that she slurped noisily, seeming to further annoy the demon beside her, but he didn't say anything on the subject. Nobody knew if it was because he didn't want to disturb her or because he knew Dean and Sam would jump down his throat. 

"Sammy, I'm gonna use your laptop," Roberta announced, pulling his bag to her. "Ew...who drooled on this?" She paused. "Nevermind, I know who." Blushing, she unzipped it and pulled out her twin's laptop before opening it swiftly and clicking into the search browser. She typed noisily, seeming to be going into a messaging application. Crowley couldn't help it. He glanced over her shoulder nosily as she typed a greeting to someone with nothing more than the initial of _F._

' _I'm on the road again._ ' Roberta.

' _I knew you wouldn't stay in one place for long. Where you headed now?_ ' F.

' _Can't say for obvious reasons. Just know I'm out of Kansas. How's Sissy?_ ' Roberta.

' _I should be oddly offended. I give you everything you need to know and still you remain...mysterious. Sissy is fine. Her stitches are finally out._ ' F.

' _Coordinates and an initial aren't exactly personal. The only thing I know for sure about you is you have a cute dog. But give Sissy kisses for me._ ' Roberta.

' _I'd rather not. She slobbers like no tomorrow. Does this future location have anything to do with your problem?_ ' F.

Crowley's eyebrows knitted together. So this anonymous person clearly knew about Roberta's issue; he also seemed to know her home base was in Kansas. But if what the messages said were true, Roberta didn't know anything about them other than their initial(if it truly was of their name) and their dog. He glanced up front toward the brothers who were still chowing down on their junk food. He wondered if they knew what their sister was up to. She didn't seem to be trying to hide it. 

' _I do have a location if you're interested, however. Bad situation in Nevada. Alien fanatics are having their annual festival on the outskirts of Las Vegas. They're disappearing at a rapid rate, but they're too foolish to cancel the festival and instead are consulting the police in hopes they solve it. Most of them are just assuming it's probing or governmental interference to keep them out of Area 51._ ' F.

Roberta's hands paused and she looked up cautiously. So Dean and Sam weren't aware. Her face said it all. 

' _I'll see what I can do. I have to go._ ' Roberta.

' _Fine. Let me know what you think._ ' F.

With that, Roberta quickly signed out of the messenger and shut the laptop completely before pushing it back into her twin's bag. She looked around nonchalantly until she finally met Crowley's eyes and flinched at the smirk he wore.

"Little dove is also a little minx?"

"Shut up," she mumbled, staying quiet. 

"Who's the friend? Or is this some kind of long distance thing I'm unfamiliar with?"

"It's called none of your goddamn business," Roberta hissed. "It's literally just someone I met on the message board."

"Someone who clearly knows about what you do as well as what you're going through. Not to mention she's keeping all of this from her nosy brothers, both of which don't like their location to be known. And F. clearly knows your homebase is in Kansas," Crowley said, still grinning from ear to ear. "However, feel free to enlighten me more so I can feel obligated to help keep your secret." 

"Joke's on you, Sam and Dean do know I have an online friend."

"Do they know the information they freely give you?"

Roberta fidgeted in her seat. "No, but they do know about Sissy. That's how we bonded. Look, either way, it doesn't matter. F. helps me find cases. I don't tell them much more than that. They only know that I'm 'from' Kansas. They don't know exactly where. I did ask about...my situation a couple of days after the first incident, but they didn't have a clue how to help me, so that's why I'm in this car beside you."

"Interesting," Crowley murmured. "I assume he or she even knows your name?"

"They think I'm Deanna Singer." Roberta grinned. "Took a little inspiration from my brother and Bobby, but it fit the ticket rather well. You gonna jump and tell my brothers now?"

Crowley didn't say anything at first, seeming to turn it all over in his mind and genuinely think about it. Snitching to Dean and Sam would put them in a funny predicament, but that would end up with an emotional tirade on the safety of the internet as well as Roberta's personal identity. The sappiness would be enough to rot a tooth. Crowley crossed his arms, shaking his head. 

"You're playing a dangerous game, little dove. This will most likely come back to bite you in the ass."

"And if it does, it'll be my problem," Roberta stated.

"I sure hope so."

With that, they were rendered back into silence. Dean and Sam were none the wiser, finishing off their car snacks. The next four and a half hours was left with Sam and Roberta napping soundly while Dean downed two bottles of energy drink in order to stay awake. Crowley spent his free time glancing at Roberta as she made a new drool spot on Moose's bag. This internet friend could be disastrous if not handled correctly. Not that he truly cared if it harmed the Winchesters in any way, but since he was taking part on this roadtrip, perhaps that could change.


	3. Imogen Stein

It had been several hours since Roberta last heard the siren. They were approaching Breckenridge quickly, the snow giving every indication that they would see Imogen Stein soon and she would, hopefully, steer Roberta in the right direction in order to understand what the hell she was hearing and why. Dean had switched the heater on within Baby so they wouldn't freeze while Roberta took her time pulling out a jacket for herself and Sam since Dean was content with the one he wore everyday. Crowley had been silent since his witness to Roberta's online friend, but he made no indication that he was going to tell Sam and Dean all about it. Roberta was thankful. 

"Dean, they don't sell it in vending machines," Sam hissed. Dean seemed to be going on and on about finding some kind of dealer or place that sold what was legal in Colorado. Roberta shook her head, smiling. They were ridiculous sometimes. 

"I'm just saying we should keep an eye out in case we do find it. Don't tell me you're gonna wuss out on letting loose, Sammy."

"I already had my fair share at Stanford."

Dean accidentally slammed on the gas in his surprise, sending Sam, Crowley, and Roberta lunging forward. Roberta, being the lightest, hit her head on their seat. She glared at her elder brother, who paid her no mind, while she rubbed her forehead. 

"You had pot in college?" Dean grinned.

"Once...at a party. It wasn't even a lot of pot, it was in a brownie." Sam said, embarrassed. 

"No way!" Roberta joined the conversation, forgetting her injury as she leaned forward. "You did what? That's...how did you feel?"

"Okay...I guess? I mean, I got really tired and hungry at the same time, so I kind of passed out on the couch with _Pringles_." 

"And here I thought you were a prude, Moose. I'm mildly impressed," Crowley chuckled.

"Shut up," Sam scoffed. "It's not that big of a deal. And besides, Dean, we're here for Bertie. We probably won't even have time."

"Don't you say that," Dean said, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. "We'll find a way to make time."

Roberta returned to her seat. Dean and Sam continued to argue as Dean drove, the temperature on the outside of the Impala steadily lowering. Soon enough, they pulled up to a sign that welcomed them into the lovely town of Breckenridge. As Crowley had said before, it was a ski resort, so there were tons of people here, both resident-alike and tourists. It was absolutely beautiful. The snow was stainless, and the mountains that surrounded the town were incredibly huge. Sunlight could barely surpass their height, leaving them in just the heavenly glow of the town's lights. Despite their circumstances, it was very therapeutic to be there. 

"Where are we going from here, Crowley?" Dean barked from the front. 

"I don't know. I only know Imogen lives here. It'd be rather creepy if I knew exactly where here," Crowley grinned. 

"Seriously?" Sam scoffed. 

"Seriously."

"Can't you, like...call her?" Roberta asked meekly. 

"Darling, we don't exchange numbers when we make deals. No, I can't just call her," Crowley snorted. "I can't do everything for you children. You're going to have to figure this part out on your own, while I sit back and watch." 

The three Winchester siblings cursed under their breaths, shaking their heads. They didn't have time for this. They just wanted to speak with her and leave Breckenridge and find whatever the hell was calling Roberta. They should've expected at least one obstacle, however, given that they're running on Crowley's directions. Even still, Dean couldn't help but wonder if he could subtly tell Roberta to unbuckle his seatbelt so he could slam on the breaks and watch the King of Hell skyrocket through the windshield. Deciding they should stop and eat instead, he pulled up toward a restaurant deemed _Windy City Pizza and Pub_.

"Dean, we need to find-"

"We need to eat, Sammy. We can't just run around on gas station snacks. Bertie needs sustenance. Right, sis?"

"Awe, hell yeah!" Roberta cheered, her mouth practically watering. Pizza sounded _so_ good right now.

"I'll just wait in the car," Crowley grimaced. 

"As if I'm leaving you in Baby by yourself. You're coming in," Dean ordered, "even if I have to drag you by your stupid suit."

"Wow, I can't believe that intimidated me into wanting to," Crowley said sarcastically. "If I go in, you're buying me a drink."

"Fine," Sam agreed begrudgingly, not wanting to argue any longer.

Everyone stepped out of the vehicle, Crowley waiting momentarily for Roberta to crawl out so he could shut the door. Roberta was quick to slip her jacket on, giving Sam his own. The four of them approached the entrance and walked in with fervor, tummies rumbling. Since, again, this town was a ski resort, it was relatively crowded. Thankfully, there was a tiny booth in the back available, but they'd have to squeeze up against each other. Dean didn't allow Crowley and Roberta to sit together again, instead cornering the demon against the wall as he sat beside him. Roberta ended up sitting on the outside of the booth beside her twin. 

"Ain't this place nice?" Dean grinned. The air smelled like cheese and the sweet scent of strawberries. Everyone was adorned in winter clothing, enjoying their meals. From what they could see of the kitchen, everyone was bustling about in a hurry to get everyone's orders out. Soon enough, a woman in uniform approached their table with a notepad. She was rather petite with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her eyes were small and green, followed by a button nose and thin lips. She had shapely hips, despite her stature, and she had legs for days. 

"Hello, welcome!" she greeted, her eyes flickering to Dean, who gave her a wide grin. "I'm Delilah, and I'll be your waitress tonight. Can I get you started with anything to drink or some appetizers?"

"I'll take Glencraig whisky if you have it, darling." Crowley smirked from Dean's other side. 

"Two beers for us," Dean gestured to himself and Sam. 

"I'll just take a water," Roberta smiled, but Delilah's attention was all on Dean as she passed out four menus. 

"I'll be back with your drinks," she smiled with her teeth. Perfectly white and straight. 

"Thanks, sweetheart," Dean said. 

With that, she walked away back toward the kitchen, swaying her hips as she knew Dean was watching. Sam and Roberta exchanged a look before rolling their eyes with a laugh. They couldn't take Dean anywhere. In unison, the three of them began to flip through the menu in search of something to eat. Crowley just stared at the cover with a scowl. 

"What, you're not hungry?" Roberta asked, looking up at him. 

"We don't really get...hungry." he replied. "Not that we can't eat, but you get the picture. Truth be told, I'd just like my drink." 

"You gotta eat somethin', man, this stuff sounds way too good to pass up," Dean said. "I don't even know which one I want." 

"I'll just get a salad," Sam chuckled, closing his menu. 

"Dude, c'mon...really?"

"Yes, really. You and Bertie go all out. I'm fine with just that."

"You know what, Moose? I'll do the same. A salad actually sounds pretty...good," Crowley shrugged, pushing his closed menu toward him. Sam took it and piled it over his own. Dean and Roberta continued to look over their options. 

"Spring Slush, Dean," Roberta said, pointing to it. 

"A Spring Slush pizza?" he asked, finding the page she was on and reading. "Buffalo sauce base, mozzarella, chicken, ham, banana peppers, and finished with a barbecue swirl." 

"That sounds disgusting," Sam grimaced. 

"Are you kidding? That sounds delicious. We'll split a large," Dean decided, closing the menu and tossing it on top of Sam's and Crowley's. Roberta did the same. The two siblings shared a high five. "We should go to more resorts more often just for the food, Sammy."

"Yes, let's enable you and Bertie having heart attacks by the time you're forty." 

"Sounds like a good way to go. You and Dean have yet to die from that," Roberta smirked. Sam glowered while Dean snickered. Soon Delilah returned to give them their drinks before taking their orders. Even she seemed to grimace at Dean and Roberta's choice for a meal. She still made time to bat her eyelashes at Dean and remind him to call her if his table needs anything before taking their orders to the kitchen. 

"Alright, let's get back on the topic of Imogen," Sam stated after taking a gulp from his beer. "Crowley said she's been building a pretty penny on her successful predictions, so odds are we just have to find where she sets up shop. We talk to her, get the information we need, and find whatever the hell this is. We don't make a pit stop, and we sure as hell don't make a stop to get Dean pot."

"Damn it," Dean mumbled, disappointed. 

"What if she can't figure out what it is?" Roberta asked, twirling her straw in her glass. Eyes flashed to her, either accusing or confused. "I just mean...what if she doesn't know what the hell it is? What, then? Where do we go from there?" 

"She will figure it out," Dean insists. "Crowley said she's the real deal."

"She is definitely the real deal, dove," Crowley agreed. "There is no way she wouldn't be able to tell what's wrong with you."

Roberta took a sip of her water, before continuing, "I just mean...if this is something we can't fight. Or if it's not anything at all...I just don't wanna screw anything up more than I already have."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, confused. 

"Look, this whole thing is my issue. If something goes wrong, that's on me. This has nothing to do with any of you." Roberta tried to phrase it as nicely as she could, but her brothers could be rather thick headed at times. Even now as she looked at them, Sam seemed troubled and Dean seemed rather angry that Roberta was attempting to push them away. "If you guys want to tap out right here, right now...I won't be upset. Go on your regular hunts and I'll find you both when it's over."

"Are you...are you being serious right now?" Dean asked. 

Crowley cautiously glanced at the brothers, sipping nonchalantly at his drink as he allowed them to deal with their sister. 

"No, Dean, I'm being sarcastic. Yes, I'm being serious!" Roberta hissed. 

"What the hell makes you think we would ever leave you to deal with this by yourself?" Sam demanded. 

"Well, technically, I'd have Crowley."

"Wow, the dream team. Roberta Winchester and Crowley. That sounds like the start of a really bad joke," Dean sneered. "Bertie...I don't know what the hell brought this on, but we're in this together. We're going to help you figure out what this is. We're not leaving you to deal with it by yourself. That's just all there is to it."

"You three rot my teeth," Crowley mumbled as he downed the rest of his drink.

"It was just a suggestion, Dean," Roberta said weakly. "I just don't want you and Sam getting hurt because of me."

"We're here by choice, Bertie. If we get hurt, it's on us," Sam declared. He pulled Roberta over by her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. She fought off a smile, playfully pushing him away. "Now, like I said before, we find out where Imogen does her predictions and we figure out where she lives from there. Piece of cake, if you ask me." 

"Then we can get back on the road and off to wherever the hell this is coming from," Dean grinned. 

At that time, Delilah arrived with a platter of food. She handed Crowley and Sam their salads before setting down the large pizza Dean and Roberta were going to split. She retrieved Crowley's glass with a promise to bring him a refill before disappearing once more. 

"I am thoroughly disgusted by the both of you," Crowley said as Dean and Roberta each grabbed a slice. The smell was atrocious to him, but it didn't seem to bother the siblings since they dug in happily, moaning in delight at the flavor. "Moose, I don't see how you can stand to dine with these two." He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a fork for his salad. 

"You get used to it through time," Sam shrugged, leaning over to pull Roberta's hair back since she didn't bother to do so. Her hair was already grazing the pizza. "It's worse at burger joints." 

Soon they were eating in complete silence. Dean and Roberta tore into the large pizza until there was nothing left. Crowley and Sam couldn't even finish their salads. When they concluded their meal, Dean waved Delilah down for the check. The check came with her number written in permanent ink just above the total. 

"You're such a douche," Roberta said, just before burping and clapping a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. "Excuse me."

"You're such a lady," Dean remarked, getting to his feet and approaching the counter to pay. Sam chuckled as he slid out of the booth, allowing Roberta to do the same. Crowley took one last gulp of his third glass and got up to follow them toward the door. Dean was chatting up Delilah, so they decided to wait by Baby for him. Somehow it was even more freezing than when they arrived. Roberta shivered, hugging herself as she leaned across the door. 

"You know...if we were here for any other reason, I'd totally love to learn how to ski," she said. "I've always loved the snow. Skiing isn't that hard, right?"

Sam stared at her for a couple of seconds before saying, "No, it's actually really easy. That's why everyone does it."

"Cool," Roberta smiled, not noting the sarcasm. 

Dean suddenly exited, looking particularly satisfied with himself as he straightened his jacket.

"Everybody ready to go?" he asked, unlocking the Impala and climbing in. Sam rolled his eyes and moved to the passenger side. Crowley opened the back door and stood aside, waiting for Roberta to go in first. She thanked him quietly and took her seat, quickly buckling up. Once everyone was inside, Dean pulled out of the parking lot and headed right. "You can all thank me now because I just got directions to the _Magnificent Palace to the Progeny of the Steins_."

"The what?" Roberta asked. 

"The shop that Imogen does her predictions in."

Sam clapped Dean proudly on the back while Roberta sat back with a wide smile. Things were already working themselves out. With the directions Delilah had given him, Dean was taking three lefts and a right before appearing on a long road of different shops Breckenridge locally owned. There were cafes, pawn shops, and even clothing stores for men and women alike. At the very end was the most extravagant sign that glowed under the moonlight. The windows were blocked by purple satin sheets, and the sign clearly said it was closed, but that was more of an invitation for the Winchesters. 

Dean took the Impala around the corner into an alleyway to keep them out of sight from anybody that would squeal. It would seem these local businesses all closed at five, so it was dead in the evening. It was actually rather creepy. Dean quickly got the door open and slipped inside, the other three quickly following him before he shut the door behind him. They were left in pitch black until Sam managed to find a light switch and flicked it on, painting the four in the light pink hue. Looking up, they noticed the lights were covered by pink construction paper. How creative. 

The shop wasn't too big, but that was because of all the clutter. The walls, as well as the windows, were completely hidden behind purple satin sheets that were held up by push pins. The carpeting was a scarlet red, giving it an almost ominous look. Multi-colored pennants hung from the ceilings, all with tarot card images blown up on each. There was a small end table near the door that held an antique looking lamp and an intricately designed crystal ball. The shop was cut down the middle by a long counter with hand-made dream catchers and business cards. There were symbols drawn over the top that they easily recognized. 

"I can't go past the counter," Crowley stated matter-of-factly as he observed it. "She ensured no demon would be able to cross that line and be able to see their own futures."

"That, or she just didn't want you asshats anywhere near her until her time is up," Dean scoffed. 

At the end of the counter was a variety of portraits. Roberta curiously observed them. 

"Take a look at this," she called them over. "It's every Stein that was a psychic. Dates all the way back to the 1800s. That's so cool."

"No wonder she didn't want to be the odd man out." Sam observed, lifting up one of the more recent pictures. It was a blonde man and a ginger woman holding each other. The two of them were wearing jaded shawls. 

"Let's see if we can find out where she lives," Roberta said, jumping the counter in order to get to the other side. It seemed a lot more homey. Multi colored bean bag chairs littered the carpet along with beautifully designed rugs. Toward the back was a curtain pulled up over a separate doorway. A neon colored sign to the right red, ' _The Knowledge Begins Here_ '. This must be where Imogen did her predictions. Curious, Roberta pulled aside the curtain and walked in. 

Dean and Sam stopped dead when they hurt a scream. They didn't notice Crowley immediately ran to the counter, glowering when he realized again he couldn't move past the counter. When they realized it was Roberta screaming, they each unsheathed their weapons and jumped the counter to go see what had happened. 

Dean threw aside the curtain and ran in with his gun drawn, Sam doing the same with his knife.

This room was oddly circular. There were no corners. It was also extremely cramped. All that sat in there was a circular table with a red cloth thrown over it along with another crystal ball, this one glowing a bright yellow hue. Sitting at this table was a red headed woman with brilliant green eyes wearing a jaded shawl like the one in the photo Sam saw. She looked particularly irritated as she watched them. To the side was Roberta, who looked rather embarrassed. 

"I didn't see her sitting there. She scared the hell out of me," Roberta explained. 

"Serves you right," the woman said. She had a raspy sort of voice. It sounded like she spent years screaming and now it was too hoarse to properly speak.

"What's going on over there?" Crowley called from behind the counter. "Where is Roberta?"

"She's fine, Crowley!" Dean barked before turning his gaze to the red headed woman. "You're Imogen."

"That's right," Imogen agreed, now smiling. "And you're Dean Winchester. And that is Sam Winchester. The gal is Roberta Winchester. And the man clinging to my counter is Crowley, the King of Hell."

"How did-why...what are you doing here?" Sam asked. 

"Did it never occur to any of you that I would see you coming? You knew what I was before arriving in Breckenridge and still you couldn't foresee...then again, only I am the one who can predict things," Imogen chortled.

"We're sorry for breaking in. We just needed-" Roberta was cut off. 

"To see what is calling you," Imogen said. "Take a seat, Roberta."

"Actually...I prefer Bertie." But she took a seat anyway. Sam and Dean shared a look before going to stand by their sister as Imogen watched her carefully, as if she were looking directly into her soul and read every thought she ever had. "Why are you agreeing to help us so easily? You don't even know who we are."

"Quite the contrary, sweetheart, I know exactly who you are. The Winchesters are among the legends of werewolves and vampires. You three have made quite the image for yourselves. I wouldn't be proud of it. Everything that crosses your path seems to want to kill you. Well...almost everything." She looked up at Roberta when she added that last bit. "But I'm not going to sit here and deny you my help. For one thing, that goes against everything I sold my soul for. For another, your brothers wouldn't allow it." 

"So that's why you sold your soul?" Roberta couldn't help but ask. "Because you wanted to help people?"

"Why else would I have done it?"

"We thought it was because you wanted to impress your parents because you weren't born with their...gift," Dean blurted. 

Imogen's smile tightened. "My mother and father loved me to death. Neither of them cared whether I had the gift or not. But they used their abilities to help people. Sometimes it was to help a couple find their missing child. Other times it was helping a lonely woman find her true love. The Steins love to help people. I didn't sell my soul until a man wandered into town in search for his wife. He had been looking for seven months at that point, and he was becoming desperate. By that time my parents were dead. And at that time I wasn't married, and I didn't have kids, so I didn't think it was selfish of me to do it. I helped him. Turns out the wife ran off to a different country to be with the man she felt was better. That same man who realized his wife had abandoned him without saying anything was the same man I married that year after. And the same man I had kids with. Had I known all of that before I gave up my life, I wouldn't have done so."

Roberta couldn't believe it. She sat there, staring at this woman with her jaw dropped. Even Sam and Dean were rendered silent. 

"I'm so sorry," Roberta broke the silence. 

Imogen smiled. "Don't be. It was all according to destiny. My kids will live long, happy lives. My husband knows what'll eventually occur. The day before I depart will be spent in spoiling my children in all the love I can manage before I spend the next day drinking my weight in whatever the hell I choose."

Roberta and her laughed. Although, Roberta's was more guarded. She couldn't believe this was the truth of the psychic. This is not at all what she had thought she was gonna be like. Roberta felt a lot more guilty about breaking into the shop now. 

"We're sorry we broke into here," Sam practically read her thoughts. "Had we known you knew we were coming..."

"Stop all your worryin', kids. I'm not turnin' you away. I'm going to help to the best of my ability."

"Why?" Dean demanded, suspicious. "And don't tell me it's just because you want to be a good girl scout."

Rachel and Sam both turned to glare at him, but Imogen didn't seem at all bothered. 

"Being the Winchesters means opinions on you are divided on two sides. Some deem you ticking time bombs. Where you go people die. Others call you heroes. You're always willing to bite the bullet if it means saving the many. I happen to find that quality very precious. It's not everyday you find people who are willing to do what you do." 

Dean took a few moments to process that. Finally, he gave a curt nod. 

"Alright, I suppose we should get started," Imogen smiled, holding both of her hands out. Roberta automatically placed hers into them.

"I suppose I just wait patiently out here?" Crowley interrupted loudly. 

"Go calm him down," Dean hissed to Sam, who rolled his eyes and left. 

"Is it inappropriate to ask why you brought him here?" Imogen questioned. "Motives and predictions don't exactly go hand in hand."

"He wants to know what this is, too. He's worried it's something he has to...worry about," Roberta flushed. "That sounded stupid."

"Not at all," Imogen smiled, squeezing her hands and closing her eyes. Dean remained absolutely still, folding his arms over his chest as he looked between his sister and the psychic. "Okay...give me a moment. Everyone has a variety of different futures. Each step you take can make hundreds of different scenarios come true. Sometimes it is difficult to decipher exactly which path you will eventually take."

"Okay," Roberta said cautiously, looking up at Dean for help. He gave her an assuring smile, leaning over to squeeze his shoulder. As soon as he made contact with her, Imogen let out a small hiss. 

"I see you...draped in red. Blood," Imogen said, her eyes screwed shut. "You're angry. You're hurt. You are surrounded by bodies, all of which bare the same symbol. I need...I need a pen and paper."

Dean scrambled over himself and suddenly took out a marker and handed it to her and thrust out a hand for her to draw on. 

Quickly, her eyes still shut, she began scribbling an odd symbol onto his palm. To Roberta it looked like an upside down crescent moon with flames pulling off its surface. Imogen gripped her hands again. 

"You hear it again. It's the siren. It's...the loudest it's ever been. A shadow is cast over you..." Imogen let out a blood curdling gasp, ripping her hands from Roberta's and jumping to her feet. For a moment, Dean and Roberta feared she was having a heart attack as she clutched the front of her shawl with her green eyes wide open. She stared at Roberta as if she had never seen anything like her. "The siren...is a weapon."

"A what?" Dean asked, confused. 

"You are not the only one hearing this siren, Bertie," Imogen declared, moving around the table and grasping Roberta by the shoulders. "You are being summoned. You and four others."

"Four others...what the hell are you talking about? How is this siren a weapon?" Dean demanded, frustrated at the lack of answers and sudden uproar of more questions than he had before. 

"How do I get the siren to stop? Who's doing it? How is it a weapon?" Roberta asked, desperate to know more. "Who the hell is hearing this, too?"

"I don't know much more than that." Imogen said, releasing her shoulders. 

"What about a location? Does it say where to go?"

"The only thing that stood out where she was was a tomb," Imogen stated. "Um...the name on the tomb was..." She struggled to remember, knocking her fist three times upon her forehead. "Brighton. That is the name I saw on the tomb." 

"Are you okay?" Roberta asked, getting to her feet and approaching Imogen while Dean tried to process all what he was told. He looked down at his hand again in confusion. What did this symbol have to do with anything? How was this siren a weapon? Who else was being called and why was Roberta one of them?

"You have to tell us more," Dean begged.

"I'm sorry...that is all I could see," Imogen said seriously. "I saw only darkness after a shadow fell over her."

"Does...does that mean..."

"No!" Dean interrupted Roberta, looking stern. He whipped back around to Imogen. "I don't know what the hell you think you saw. But that can't just be it. You said it yourself, there's a hundred possible futures. There has to be other ways, other outcomes."

"Dean...that is what I saw. It is what will happen if you continue. I can't change the future. I can only predict it," Imogen said as kindly as she could. 

"This...this isn't happening. We're finding a different psychic. A better one," Dean snapped, turning his back and throwing the curtain out of the way so he could go talk to Sam and Crowley, leaving Roberta alone with Imogen who looked troubled. Roberta felt terrible. She felt as though she were going to toss up all that pizza she had eaten at dinner. 

"Bertie," Imogen broke her from her thoughts, "I really am sorry. But that is all I can tell you. That is all I could see." 

"O...Okay," Roberta said, sliding back down into her seat. 

"Are...are you gonna be okay?"

"What? Yeah, of course! Trust me, I've been through worse. Well, you already know that because you already know about the Winchesters. But you also know it's mostly just been about my brothers. I usually just tag-along. This is the first time it's about me, and we don't even know what the hell we're going in for. I've never even heard of a Brighton, and I look really bad in red and blood. And...I just...I need some air, I think? Is there a window back here? Is there a window you can open? Or...can you just...kick down a wall? Please, I just need to...I need to breathe."

"Bertie...Roberta, slow down."

"I am. I'm slowin' down all the way. I'm fine. I'm totally fine. We know where to go now. We go where..." Roberta trailed off. Her stomach churned and suddenly she disappeared behind the table and threw up any and all contents she had ate that day. She did it. She vomited on the floor. Disgusting. 


	4. Predictions and Warnings

Roberta tried to apologize, but every time she opened her mouth more vomit suddenly came. Imogen looked disgusted, but she had to understand. She saw the prediction for herself and had flown back in horror. This was just too much for Roberta to handle. Clearly it was too much for Dean, too, since he had left to demand names for any other psychic they could go to with Crowley. Sam must've had enough of his brother's demands because he was now throwing aside the curtain in search for his twin, only to find her bent over near the table tossing up everything she had eaten at that pizza place.

"Oh, crap, Bertie!" he exclaimed, dashing over and gathering up her hair in his hands. "What the hell happened?"

"The truth," Imogen answered weakly. "I had to tell her the truth. Sam, your sister is being called. For what, I don't know. But she isn't the only one and the last image I saw of her was standing over a vast amount of corpses just before a shadow takes her from my view. I don't know anything other than that, I'm terribly sorry."

Sam looked between her and Roberta, at a loss for words. 

Finally, Roberta finished, leaning back shakily. Sam caught her with ease, hiding his disgust at the stain surrounding her lips from her sick. He grabbed the end of her jacket and pulled it up, wiping her mouth. To hell with the courtesy to do it himself; he really liked his jacket. She shakily stood on her own two feet, leaning on her brother for support as she eyed Imogen. 

"I...just wanted to know what was calling me."

"And I couldn't see it. It's a blockage. For all I know, they could've used a hex to prevent a situation like this," Imogen said seriously. 

"I need...to lie down. Right here on the carpet, Sammy. Just let me lie down," Roberta mumbled, already sinking to her knees. Thankfully, he had a good grip on her arms. 

"That's not happening," he sighed, hoisting her up so he had her clumsily thrown over his shoulder. "We should probably get out of here, I'm sure it's a hazard."

"Yes, we probably should," Imogen agreed, glowering at the spot that Roberta had thrown up. Sam walked out, still holding Roberta like a sack of potatoes, and had the curtain pulled so Imogen could follow. At the counter, Dean seemed to be engaged in a very heated argument with Crowley. They both turned to see the three approach, not so much relieved as they were frustrated. 

"Is that Roberta?" Crowley asked incredulously, staring at the body hanging over Sam's shoulder. 

"Bertie!" Roberta barked. 

"She made herself sick," Sam explained. "Now...can we all just calm the hell down and discuss what the next move even is?" 

"The next move is consulting a different psychic," Dean scoffed, as if there were any other option. 

"And as I've stated before, Imogen is the real deal. If we consult anybody else with a sight into the future, they'll simply tell you the same thing," Crowley said, slamming his hand onto the counter top. "Whatever Imogen saw...that is the inevitable path. We can't just prevent it if we don't even know what we're looking for."

"Brighton," Roberta suddenly gurgled. Sam slowly pulled her down from his shoulder so she could be seen. She stood rather hunched over, leaning on his arm for support. "Imogen said she saw me near a tomb with the name Brighton on it. That sound familiar to any of you?" She was met with silence. "God, I love it when we're all unanimous." 

"We can find the tomb, easy. But we're not going anywhere near there," Dean suddenly declared, looking adamant. 

"What?" Roberta scoffed, whipping around to him. She was too quick. Nausea hit her fast and suddenly Sam had her held up with both of his hands clutching her underarms. "We just found a lead and you wanna book it?"

"Did you not hear what she said? Dead, Bertie. You die in the prediction."

"We don't exactly know that," Imogen cut in, looking distinctly ruffled. "I just...couldn't see her future past that. But I did not see her die. As I said before, someone could be blocking my vision. It would make sense if they're trying to call five people, including your sister. If they are aware of their fates, they can decide not to go. Leave the details out, their choices are made for them. They go to either stop the siren or figure out what the hell is calling them in the first place. In your case, it's both." 

"We need to find the tomb," Roberta said, rubbing her head. "We need to stop the siren before I go completely insane."

"Or deaf," Crowley added in unhelpfully.

"We should talk to Cas before we decide anything," Sam suddenly suggested. "We can tell him what we know with the prediction and see what he says. He might know something about this."

"And what if calling and telling Cas about this is exactly the path to Bertie's death? Huh? I don't even know what the next move should be. Any of it could lead right to that tomb right to her death." Dean brought a hand up to hold his forehead. He didn't know what to do. Perhaps consulting a psychic was the worst possible thing. Knowing your future is both a blessing and a curse. And for someone like a Winchester, it definitely wasn't a miracle in disguise. Whatever the hell this was, it could mean the end of Roberta, and Dean wasn't having that. 

"Can we all stop talking like I'm not here?" Roberta said at last, pushing herself from her brother's grasp. She stumbled, but she caught herself on the edge of the counter, nearly sending the portraits of Imogen's family tumbling to the ground. "This is my decision. This is my problem. I will do what needs to be done. If you guys don't want to be there with me, then fine. I'll go by myself." She did a little hop, crossing over the counter in order to get to the other side and make way for the exit. She would've fallen if it weren't for Crowley grasping her waist just in time and setting her down slowly. However, her feet suddenly refused to move. She jerked, but it was like they were glued to the ground. 

"Let me go, Crowley," Roberta growled. 

"Sorry, dove, but...I'm not about to let you traipse off to God knows where when you don't even know what the hell you're doing. Forget dying with the prediction. You'll end up getting hit by a bus." Crowley shrugged, turning back to the brothers and Imogen, completely unbothered with how Roberta's face went a bright red in anger. She lunged to grapple him, but he moved just an inch out of reach, leaving her to grasp at air because her feet refused to move thanks to him. "Now, then...what is the next move, indeed? I intended to discover what exactly is calling Roberta...and I still intend to do so. The prediction lacked three key players. Moose, Squirrel, and myself. The question is why weren't we there by her side?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a look before turning to Imogen. 

"Don't look at me, I didn't make this happen," she scoffed, putting her hands up. 

"Are you two seriously that daft?" Crowley growled, slamming a fist down onto the counter. "The answer is right there. Little dove is now precious cargo. She can't leave our sights. And we can't abandon her."

"So...what you're saying is we just don't leave her side, like, ever? That's the big game changer?" Sam scoffed, unimpressed. 

"You have a better idea, Moose?"

Sam glared.

"Look, all I'm saying, is we need to reevaluate every detail of that prediction as a way to work around it. That includes calling your beloved pet, Castiel. Think of us much like...the Secret Service. Roberta will always have one of us beside her. We keep her well contained until we figure out what is calling her and the four others and ultimately destroy it. Does that sound like a decent plan?" Crowley asked, waving his hands around. 

Roberta rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair. "I don't need babysitters."

"Yes...you do," Dean said, his eyes not leaving Crowley. "Fine. We try to change the prediction. We don't leave Bertie...ever. Are you willing to pull your weight if Sammy, Cas, and I can't be up for the task?"

Crowley turned his head slightly to Roberta, who childishly had her arms crossed as she glared at him. 

"Of course," he answered at last, grinning at Dean.

"Alright...then Imogen...we're gonna need you to see that vision again. We need any little detail, anything you can see that might be helpful," Sam stated as Dean moved around in search for a piece of paper and something to write with. Imogen nodded, helping Dean by leading him toward the far end of the counter, pulling out a drawer and retrieving receipt paper that she used after she charged her customers for predictions. Sam shrugged off his jacket and went to grab the chairs from the room Roberta had vomited in. 

"You can let me go now," she mumbled. 

Crowley turned to her, a light smile gracing his face. "What if I like you like this? Stuck."

"My head is spinning," Roberta said. 

Crowley's smile dropped instantly and he snapped his fingers. Roberta flexed her foot. She could move it again. 

"Thank you," she sighed in relief.

"Of course." 

Sam returned with a chair for Imogen, passing the other to Roberta. Dean walked over, pressing the receipt paper down on the counter with the marker from earlier in his hand as he waited patiently, looking up at Imogen expectantly. The psychic in question took a seat and flattened out her shawl, pausing when she saw Crowley out of the corner of her eye. 

"I can't do it with him right there."

"Seriously?" he scoffed. 

"You're gonna take my soul in four years. I'd like to spend them without having to stare at you," she sneered. 

"Just go wait by the car, Crowley. We'll be there in a minute," Sam insisted. Crowley sputtered indignantly, but the look Dean sent him got him to roll his eyes and spin around, exiting the shop and standing by the Impala with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Now that he was out of Imogen's eyesight, she carefully reached across the counter for Roberta's hands. 

"Are you sure about this?" Roberta asked carefully. "You looked pretty scared back there."

"I did this so I can help people. I'll be damned if I let this keep me from helping you," Imogen smiled. Roberta returned it halfheartedly, reaching across the table and grasping her hands. Imogen, once more, closed her eyes and searched for the vision she had saw only minutes before. Sam stayed quiet, watching his twin anxiously while Dean stood over the paper with the marker clutched in his hand. He still had the symbol Imogen drew smudged on his palm. 

For the next twenty minutes, Imogen spent her time dissecting every angle of that vision, every distinctive face she saw, every crack she saw on the Brighton tomb. She took in the weather, the state of the grass, the source of the blood on Roberta's skin, as well as how big and the shape of the shadow that overtook her. She wasn't able to see Dean flinch every time her vision abruptly ended with Roberta overtaken in darkness. She'd just start over again with any other details she felt were helpful. By the time she finished, Dean had to reduce his writing to a tiny scrawl just to get the end of it. Imogen looked very tired. 

"I am truly sorry, Bertie," Imogen said at last while Dean folded the receipt paper and shoved it into his pocket. "I wish I could've helped more."

"You've done more than enough," Roberta promised. "I'm so, so, so grateful. And also so humiliated and sorry about the mess I left in your prediction room." 

Imogen laughed. "I'll get my guy to sterilize that room tomorrow morning before any of my regulars come in. But...Bertie...I will advise you to be very, very careful. This isn't a normal hunt. This is different. You could get hurt. Your brothers could get hurt."

Roberta winced, but she nodded. "I know. I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. They don't know it, but...I'm the strongest." She sent them both a sly smile. They returned it, playfully rolling their eyes. "I'm gonna stop whatever this is. I know it. I can feel it."

"I hope you're right," Imogen smiled, her gaze lightly flickering from Roberta's face to the door leading outside. She frowned slightly toward Crowley, who had conjured up a cigar with his magic and was now puffing into the cold Colorado air as he waited for the Winchester siblings to hurry the hell up. "Bertie...I must advise you one more thing before you leave."

Roberta's eyebrows knitted together. "What's that?"

"Beware of the King. Whatever his intentions seem like...do not buy into them so easily." 

Roberta blinked. She lightly turned in her chair, watching Crowley before looking back at Imogen in confusion. Deep down, however, her stomach was doing little flips. 

"I think that about does it," Sam said, completely unaware of the exchange the two women just had. "We should hit the road. We need to research any Brighton family that can afford an actual tomb. Let us help you get everything cleaned up first." 

Roberta pushed the chair over the counter for them to take back to the prediction room. Roberta watched them, her head swirling with thoughts of the vision and her embarrassing trip of vomiting everywhere. Deciding they had everything taken care of, she called a goodbye to Imogen and made her way outside to stand with Crowley. He turned to her when he heard the little bell from the door ring. 

"Well, if it isn't the red queen?" he taunted. 

"Shut up," Roberta said, hiding her blush as she went to stand beside him, leaning against Baby as she waited for her brothers. "Looks like we're gonna find Brighton." 

"Is that so?"

"It's the biggest lead we have out of everything. That and the symbol Imogen saw on everyone that was...dead."

Crowley turned to her, studying her closely before offering the cigar. To his surprise, she took it and took one long puff. It calmed her slightly, before she handed it back to him. For a moment they just stood in silence, relishing in the comfort of each other's company. Imogen's warning of him still creeped up in Roberta's mind. What did she mean? Was Crowley joining them just a ploy to get her killed? If it was, she was sure her brothers would be able to stop him. But even with that in mind Bertie still didn't want to believe it. She genuinely wanted to think that Crowley wanted to help her and not just destroy a potential threat that could harm him. 

"Are you okay?" Crowley asked at last, taking her by surprise. 

"Not really. I know Imogen tried to tell me I technically didn't die in the prediction, but...what other option is there? If I go..." she trailed off, unable to comprehend a world where she wasn't running around with her brothers and kicking serious ass. She didn't want to die. Truly, she did not. As disturbing as her life is, she loved it. Sam and Dean were everything to her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to Castiel or Jody or Donna or...Crowley. She looked up at him. He seemed to be staring very intently at her, but his expression was unreadable. She opened her mouth to say something, but she quickly stopped dead. 

Crowley frowned. Bertie suddenly kneeled over, her hands flying to her ears as she cried out in pain. The ringing started out small as it always did just before it brewed into a harsh and terror inducing roar. She couldn't hear anything except the ringing. She couldn't hear how she cried out in pain, going to fall to her knees if it wasn't for Crowley lunging forward and seizing her around the middle. The ringing beat at her eardrums, threatening to deafen her permanently. 

"NO!" she screamed, thrashing around trying to push Crowley off. "IT HURTS!" 

The door to Imogen's shop suddenly burst open. In a matter of seconds, Dean and Sam surrounded her. Dean grunted, shoving Crowley away while Sam cupped her face, trying his best to provide what little comfort he could when this happened. Tears spilled down her cheeks. This was far too painful to bear. Forget what she thought before. Death was better than suffering like this on a consistent basis. She just wanted it to stop.

Imogen stood in the doorway of her own shop, clutching the front of her shawl as she watched Bertie helplessly. Finally, her feet gave out and suddenly Sam was holding her up in a bridal sort of style. The ringing had pushed her into unconsciousness. Crowley attempted to push past Dean in order to look at her closer, but he wouldn't allow it. 

"What do we do?" Sam asked weakly. His face was crestfallen. He shook slightly, hoisting Bertie up higher so the blood wouldn't rush to his head. Dean could do nothing but look at his siblings, his hands still clinging to the front of Crowley's suit. He watched as his younger brother trembled with their sister in his arms. He didn't know what to do. He was the big brother. He was supposed to keep his little brother and sister safe, but all of that was going to hell with this stupid siren crap. He looked up to Imogen, as if she could provide an answer. 

"Just do what we planned," she urged. "Don't leave her side. Keep her as safe as you can and stop the siren. Just...be careful." Her eyes flew to Crowley, whose gaze hadn't left Bertie. "I'm so sorry, Winchesters. I really am." With a melancholy goodbye, she disappeared back into her shop, shutting off the lights that they have left on, leaving the four of them in complete darkness in the street. 

"Dean, tell me what to do," Sam ordered. 

"Just...I guess...put her back in Baby. We can settle down in a motel for the night. Give her an actual bed to sleep in tonight," he said at last. 

"Does that mean you can unhand me now?" Crowley growled. Dean realized he still had him in his tight grip and quickly released him. Crowley huffed, flattening the front of his, now wrinkled, suit.

"Find the cheapest place, I guess," Sam sighed, carrying Bertie to the back of Baby in order to place her inside. Crowley helpfully opened the door for him. 

"You three realize we're in a vacation paradise, right?" Crowley scoffed as he watched Sam buckle Bertie in and gently push her to lean across the bags. Dean ignored the king, instead scrolling through his phone for the most affordable place. He cursed aloud when the cellphone was suddenly snatched from him. "I won't be laying my head in the same place bed bugs choose to run about. I think you boys have forgotten who you've brought along on your little field trip. If we're going to sleep anywhere, it's a place that have bellhops carry your luggage for you and provide champagne in every room."

"That sounds great. Fork over the cash and I'll take us there," Dean said sarcastically, snatching his phone back. 

"Gladly," Crowley smirked, pulling out the wallet he had swung in their faces before and placed his entire hand inside. He fished around for a moment, cursed, and proceeded to shove his entire arm inside. Sam and Dean looked on in bewilderment as the wallet gave no indication it had that much room. Finally, he clicked his tongue in celebration and suddenly pulled out a golden credit card. He tossed it to Dean and turned around to take his spot back beside Bertie. "I'll give the directions." 

Dean fumbled with the card before he successfully caught it between his thumb and index finger. He gave it a look of confusion before looking up at Sam. His younger brother could only shrug. Why would they deny staying somewhere incredible in a place like this? Plus he really just wanted to shower and go to sleep. He didn't want to spend the next several minutes arguing. Shaking his head, Dean shoved the card into his pocket and strolled over to the driver's side, getting in. Sam did the same, sitting down in the passenger seat. Soon, they were reversing and driving away from Imogen's shop, following Crowley's directions.

Imogen's warnings and prediction was still fresh on their minds. The three of them periodically turned in their seats to study Bertie, who was still unconscious in her seat. Crowley gave her the space she needed, but it was obvious he was looking at her every couple of seconds when he wasn't telling Dean when to turn. Eventually, however, the three of them turned their attentions to the establishment they were fast approaching. Sam and Dean were in utter awe. 

It looked like they were driving up to a mansion, the many balconies and chimneys doing much to make them feel out of place. Snow gathered beautifully on the roof, and Christmas lights flashed in and out of focus as it lined the corners and sides. There were two silver trees on either side of the entrance, and they could practically smell the hot chocolate from Baby. Never, without Crowley, would they be able to afford a place like this. It was heavenly. 

Dean took a few moments to park before they exited Baby. Sam wouldn't allow Crowley to wake Bertie, so the king had to exit so Sam could crawl in and gently nudge her awake. She sounded pitiful when she responded to Sam's gentle greetings. Soon, she crawled out, rubbing her head in pain. She looked a lot worse than she had when she vomited everywhere in Imogen's shop. But she was, at least, standing and talking to them. She looked around curiously until she looked up at the hotel and let her mouth drop. 

"What, are we gonna sneak in?" she asked incredulously. "None of our cards are gonna be enough for one room." 

"Maybe, but that's why you have me, dove," Crowley grinned, suddenly jumping into her field of vision. "Only the best for the ill, no?"

"I'm not ill," Bertie scoffed, but she smiled, "but this looks amazing. Thank you." 

Crowley swelled with pride; Sam and Dean exchanged an uneasy look as they grabbed their luggage and began to make their way towards the entrance.


End file.
